


autumn's ashes summers embers on the sidewalk come september

by racheltuckerrr



Series: build it better [3]
Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Mild Smut, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheltuckerrr/pseuds/racheltuckerrr
Summary: persephone is back home, and they try, even as doubt comes creeping in.





	autumn's ashes summers embers on the sidewalk come september

Persephone was stood in the hallway with her suitcase in a big dilemma when Hades came to find her like she knew he would as soon as he heard the train whistle go off. 

She turned around slowly upon hearing him approach. “You were late,” Persephone stated by way of explanation for not waiting for him to come get her himself.

"I promised," her husband answered simply as if that's all there ever was to it. She doubted it, but for the moment it was enough to make her smile at him and mean it. He smiled back, then took the bag from her to put it into the bedroom when it dawned on him just why she hasn't done so herself already.

They haven't slept in the same bed in…well, not since before the poet, that's for sure. And even then, her tendency to share his bed had been unpredictable at best, and more often than not influenced by some substance or other. But after the progress of this last summer, it didn't feel right to her to shut him out again. She realized she didn't want to. But it wasn't just up to her alone, was it?

Persephone looked at her husband, saw the exact moment he caught up to her and raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question. She half expected him to withdraw into his shell again, or say something neutral like "It's up to you, lover" and leave her to pick the wrong option just so he could resent her for it later. 

But that's not what happened. 

Persephone watched with bated breath as Hades put the suitcase down on the creaking floorboards, then turned to her with a face so earnest that it was almost hard to take him seriously. But she knew him oh so well, so she did her best to do so, as Hades drew his large hands around her face, caressing her cheeks with feather light pressure. 

Technically, it had only been some months ago that they danced with each other at Zeus' party, really not that much time given who they were and how they lived, but with the way they'd been with each other lately, even those few moons felt like so much longer. Persephone had missed her husband's touch. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in it.

At first, she thought Hades was goin' in for a kiss, which would have been more than fine with her, but no, he just stood there holding her face like it was the finest piece of porcelain he'd ever touched. What kind of man loved like that? Like her husband. No god on Olympus, that's for sure. Maybe no one period.

"Come home, wife." He spoke the last word ever so softly, with care; a stark contrast to how it's been used between them in recent years. "We don't even have to - I don't expect anything from ya." 

He shook his head as he swallowed hard, eyes staring straight ahead, and Persephone ached because didn't she _ just _ tell him mere months ago that she still wanted him? She was sure about it then, but even more so now. Their desire for each other has never been in short supply over the course of their long marriage - that was never the problem.

"Just come home, Persephone." She nodded and reached under that big ol' chin to tilt his head up for a sweet peck on the lips. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, and Persephone didn’t want to know anyway, just pressed her lips to his for a few seconds longer. 

Her promise to him, signed, sealed, and delivered. "Okay."

* * *

In the end, it didn't make a lick of difference where her suitcase and her things were unpacked, least not those first few weeks. They had so much to do they barely even slept at all, and on the few occasions that they managed it, Persephone passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow, only occasionally conscious enough to reach for his hand before she was out like a light for at least the next couple hours.

Now that they were talking to each other again, or at least trying to, it came to Persephone's attention how much there actually was to discuss that they'd previously ignored or privately stored away in their respective boxes of resentment to be used later in a heat-of-the-moment argument, in the most vicious way possible. Now, talking about it calmly, in a way that would bring compromise instead of more ire, was a whole different bowl of fruit.

Still, Persephone made it a point to reasonably discuss her list of grievances with Hades, and let him bring his own ones to the proverbial table as they walked the fields of Elysium together for hours on end every day, and tentatively renegotiated the very ground they stood upon. It wasn't an easy process, so they started small.

Hades asked for one letter a week from her while she was up above. Persephone asked him not to wear any of those pinstripe suits she hated while she was down below. He asked her to at least consider granting him her forgiveness regarding the matter of bringing down Eurydice. She told him the only way he could have it was if he swore never to do a thing like that to her again. 

So swear it he did, and so it went.

They walked and they negotiated, they bickered and they squabbled, and only truly argued about a couple important things, only occasionally losing their temper, so at least that was something. Persephone supposed being on Elysian soil helped with that, being a literal piece of paradise even if it was way down under the earth. Hades suggested that particular battlefield because it was a sort of middle ground between the two of them, as much as anything could be in a kingdom that already bore his name before she had ever been born. 

Despite the obvious appeal, it was never Persephone’s favourite part of the realm, but she didn’t mind it either. Back before all the industrialization, Elysium was the part of Hades that contained most of the light in the realm, and though its glow didn’t come from a real sun, she could at least pretend that she was basking in the rays on the days when the subterranean climate was particularly hard on her. 

She never actually talked about any of that with Hades, not in so many words, but it seemed like he managed to find out anyway. He had always been good at that. Her husband had quite a few means and ways of his own, Persephone knew. 

She brushed her hands along the tall, dark and incredibly soft blades of grass as they walked; grass that felt so much more like silk than the edges of a sword. Impossible to cause even a tiny fissure on the skin, for gods and mortals alike - unlike the grass in her mama’s garden that, in another life, had cut Persephone many a time while she was running through it carelessly with outstretched fingers. 

The girl with a smile a mile wide who’d left golden droplets in her wake, wearing a different dress as well as a different name back then.

"I want a couple acres of the old land back for my gardens,” she told Hades one day.

Old, meaning the land he'd claimed but hasn't built on; the long strip of mostly arable soil stretching at the Easternmost part of the kingdom. Outside the stone border of Hadestown, framed by Lethe on one side and the old pine grove that ran along all the way to the south on the other. It was probably the last piece of natural land here, and back in the beginning it was where Persephone would indulge her abilities as much as even the queen of the green and growing things could do in the land of the dead. 

He hasn’t dared touch it yet, but Persephone knew well enough that it was only a matter of time that Hades would want to raise even more awful factories now that his industry was expanding, and he couldn’t damn well keep puttin’ em inside city limits without people starting to complain about the noise and fume exhaust, and then a strike would be all but imminent. The only reason he got away with it now was ‘cause no folks wanted to live anywhere near the West border, on account of it being closest to Tartarus, even if it was on the other side of that cursed river of stone, which left a lot of abandoned lots there for Hades to build on. 

Persephone knew all this because despite turning her back on her duties for the last couple centuries, she still had a damn good head for the politics of governing, as well as the numbers and managing the business side of things. Far better than he ever had. She could just about see through his plans, they were so transparent to her. But Persephone also knew that she absolutely could not let him turn them into reality. 

Hades must have known her reasons too, but out of all possible things, _ that _ was not what gave him pause as he looked at her with raised brows.

"Your -" He was legitimately speechless, his surprise visceral, and she couldn't really blame him. Hardest thing about all this making up for Persephone was that the closer she looked at things, the less comfortable she was with putting the blame elsewhere, away from herself. "You haven't tended those gardens in…"

_ Ah_. Well, he certainly wasn't wrong there, and Persephone couldn't even deny it. 

"About as long as we haven't tended ours. I know." Her underground sprout children were only one of the many things she'd been neglecting lately. "Must be full of bramble, briar and thorn by now, but it's still mine." 

_And_ _this marriage_ _is_ _still_ _ours_, was what she didn't say. She knew Hades understood her anyway, his thumb running gentle circles on the back of her wrist as he reached for her; soothing and familiar and gentle, and still, so unsure.

"You can have as many acres as you like," he promised, not letting go of her hand but bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss instead, "...my _ queen._ If you will allow the kingdom to have _ you _ back."

He was right, and however subtle and veiled the request was, Persephone had learned to read between his lines ages ago. 

She was queen of this land, just as he was its king, even if she hasn't acted the part in a good long while. She understood well enough why that would be the first serious item on _ his _ list, and nodded her consent. She needed to get her head back in the game, it was only fair. She needed to try like she promised, like she knew he was trying for her.

They both needed to try for each other, and even harder still, to keep on trying for themselves too.

"You can't come early anymore," Persephone said after a short silence, deciding to bite the bullet. He had to know that this was coming; the earth was dying more and more with each rotation, in a way that was harder and harder to bring back to life, even for her. There was no getting around it anymore. "You know that."

He didn’t say anything for a long time, just walked beside her, easily keeping her pace like he always did. And when he finally did speak, she wished he’d have stayed silent for a little longer instead.

"I know you don't like to come h-" She didn’t let him finish. More the pity, if he was gonna be this impossible.

"Is that what you think, truly?" It couldn’t be. Gods, was he impossible. They both were, couldn’t be helped. Except it must be. It must. "_Hades!_"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"Good. We're old, lover. Really old.” As if he didn’t know. Couldn’t feel it in his bones just like she did. As if she couldn’t see it on his _ face _ every time she waved him goodbye and watched another frown line appear on his big forehead. “It's too easy to assume things, after all that time. But I'd still rather if you just asked."

"Alright,” he replied, truly considering it. “What about August then? End of."

"Too soon,” Persephone refused with a gentle shake of her head. She knew he was using a bargaining tactic on her, but Persephone was after a bargain of her own design, and maybe the two were not so different after all that they couldn't meet in the middle. “You're cutting off the harvest. Folks can't stock up if they haven't finished reapin' all the goods yet."

"September then."

"End of?" She asked with a teasing lilt. The truth was that she fully expected him to counter every inch she gave him with another two of his own. It was how they worked, how they had always worked; life and death, a constant push and pull. Had to be, for better or worse. 

Still, a compromise was necessary.

"Middle," he offered it to her, and she smiled.

"_Done_," Persephone agreed readily. "And you come visit me in the meantime,” she said, matter of fact. So he knew it weren’t just optional. Then, she softened her tone, just a little. “Whenever you can, I mean it. Screen door to the garden's always open."

"Your mother won't like that."

"She's just gonna have to deal with it then," Persephone decided and the matter was settled. "I have a right to miss my husband."

* * *

The winding forest road that led from her speakeasy to Hecate's abode was one of Persephone's favourites. It was quiet and calm and dark and misty in a way that there wasn't much left of in the kingdom anymore. It was right and natural. And it was also the path that led to one of her favourite people in the down below.

She knew Hecate would be home by the gentle cloud of smoke billowing from the small chimney that was visible even from her bar, given that the two establishments weren't that far apart from each other. The queen's speakeasy stood on the edge of the pine forest, just out of view from where the railroad ran and neatly obscured by the overgrown bits of nature that surrounded it by Persephone's own design, while Hecate lived deep in the forest like any respectable witch, only choosing to socialize by taking the connecting path to the speakeasy when it suited her. 

Or when Persephone decided her friend had been cooped up in her little home long enough, which was currently the case. Upon arriving at the little stone house, Persephone rapped on the wooden door once for posterity before letting herself in anyway, as was her habit.

"You know, just because you're married to my boss doesn't mean you can do whatever you like," came a silky smooth voice that Persephone loved so much, as a slender, pale-skinned woman appeared from behind an assortment of herb plants on her kitchen counter. 

She was no doubt in the middle of brewing up her latest remedy, and Persephone made a mental note to ask her about it later; Hecate's creations had helped her out in the past many a time, which was one of the reasons why the two women became as close as they were now.

"You know it's only me, Hekka. No one else would dare, not even my husband."

"Which is your only saving grace, my beautiful queen," Hecate nodded before coming to embrace her friend tightly, her short ebony black hair falling over Persephone's shoulder in the process.

"I've missed you sorely this past summer," she told Hecate after pulling away. "Could've used your sage advice on multiple occasions concerning that old man."

"Seems to me you're doing just fine on your own. I've only seen signs of a gentle fall transition thus far, and if you keep this up then it just might end up bringing a kind winter about as well." Which was already more than anyone could have hoped for, in decades if not centuries. "Though it's true, you two are as unpredictable as any two lovers I've ever seen."

"If that ain't truer than you think, my friend."

"I wish I could offer you a remedy for that ancient problem, but I believe no cure has ever been invented," Hecate smiled apologetically.

Persephone chuckled, for she knew her friend was not speaking in jest. If there was a potion for fixin' her marriage, Hecate would have given it to her a long time ago.

"Nah, that's alright," she said, placing her hand lightly on the other woman's shoulder. "I'll settle for the pleasure of your delightful company in my bar, Hekka. Would you do me the honor of that at least?"

"If I absolutely must," the witch sighed and gathered some leaves from the plants on the table to take with them, and then the two women took the short walk back together through the grove, ending right back at the speakeasy at the end of the winding forest path.

Persephone ushered her friend in through the entrance, stepping into the old-timey bar that looked more like a veritable western set with all its wooden surfaces, iron barstools and woven leather seats than any underworld establishment had the right to look. 

The decor choices were made out of necessity for the most part, instead of any intentional artistic direction, since Persephone operated mostly under the radar, even if she suspected Hades only pretended not to know about her little side-project. She worked with what she could easily get her hands on, without drawing too much attention. Still, she was proud of her work, and if her space provided a little refuge to some exhausted workers at the end of a long shift then all the better.

Persephone and Hecate were greeted with a sudden silence as a noticeable hush fell over the room upon their arrival. That in itself wasn't so unusual, and Persephone chalked it up to Hecate's presence more than her own, given that her friend was a powerful witch who didn't often show herself to the mortal inhabitants, making her even more of an oddity among them than the goddess and realm queen herself was. 

She took a moment to find the dark brown eyes behind the counter and nodded to greet Eurydice who was working her usual shift at the speakeasy, like Persephone knew she would be. The goddess knew she'd have to actually talk to the girl sooner or later, instead of trading her small favors like this job in the hopes that she might absolve Persephone of her part in what happened to her and her lover.

_ Soon._

For now, Persephone and Hecate took a detour behind the serving area, stepping through a backdoor to a smaller storage space where Persephone kept all the booze and a couple odd herbs as well. This was her secret hideaway, the place she frequented more often than she should have, and there was even a small table set up with two chairs just to keep the illusion that she wasn't drinking alone, even if she was, mostly. 

Hecate took one look at her sad little liquor corner and her black eyebrows shot straight up into her hairline, but she didn't say a thing. Just as well, Persephone wouldn't have known what to tell her anyway. She was just hoping to get her friend to make her favourite ginger beer for her, that's all; the judgment she could get from anyone.

"I can hear you judging me," Persephone sighed when the silence stretched on a bit too long for her liking.

"I didn't say a word," the witch replied, but her brows were knitting together on her forehead something awful, twisting her beautiful features. "Yet."

"Look, Hekka -" Persephone couldn't finish her thought, because not a moment later a third person joined their little party, promptly interrupting her as she all but broke the door down on them.

"Excuse me? What do you think you're -" Persephone's outrage soon turned to confusion when she saw who the intruder was, and even more so at the expression on the girl. "Eurydice?"

"I don't mean to interrupt, but there is something you should hear," the songbird told her with an air of importance that stopped Persephone's oncoming tirade in her tracks. "I'm not a tattle-tale by any means but...you've been good to me since I've been down here, and I think this is my moment to repay that kindness, so we don't owe each other anything."

Persephone's head swam with all the implications of that little speech, but she nodded for the girl to go on, her curiosity the leading emotion at that very moment.

"The workers, they've been coming around more and more since…" she trailed off, not able to even say his _ name _ and Persephone closed her eyes against the oncoming guilt she'd been trying so hard to avoid feeling. "They've been talking in groups in hushed voices and holding gatherings like they're plotting something and I hesitate to use the word riot, but-"

That was enough for Persephone. She swept Eurydice behind herself as she locked eyes with Hecate and the three women filed out of the storage room, slightly crouching down to avoid being seen as they hid behind the counter at the bar.

The workers were gathering alright. Tables and chairs turned around so they could all see the one who was speaking to them more clearly. One of them, a tall man, was in the middle of making an impassioned speech about the unfair treatment in the mines, and Persephone despaired to have to agree with him on many accounts. 

The language he used was clearly meant to manipulate emotion rather than logic, but the core of his points were legitimate and absolutely justified. Their hours were long and the conditions hard, and Hadestown was supposed to be a place of rest for them, not eternal damnation. That was at the end of a different railroad, and none of these souls have been deemed deserving of such a fate. No wonder the atmosphere in the room was closer and closer to reaching mutinous proportions. 

Something had to be done and quickly, or they soon might actually have a full-blown riot on their hands.

"Shouldn't we get the boss man here?" Hecate whispered from Persephone's right, but to both their surprise, it was Eurydice who answered her.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now, they're too riled up. Look at them, there is no way a power move is gonna do it."

She was right.

"Maybe I could talk to them," the girl offered then and Hecate snorted in response, with Persephone still staying silent in the middle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, little bird."

No, better not. But Eurydice was right, somebody would have to step in and Persephone had been thinking.

After the three women had managed to inch as close as they could to find the best eavesdropping position, it didn't take much for her keen mind to realize where the crack in the wall was located so to speak, while Hecate and Eurydice traded possible solutions in whispered voices over her head.

It's true that Persephone's focus hadn't been primarily on everything that was wrong in Hadestown, but more on the things that had gone wrong in her marriage. But that is not to say that those things weren't in any way related. Which is precisely why, now that her and Hades finally stepped onto the road to healing together, his iron grip on the kingdom began thawing as well, and the workers must have sensed this vulnerability, and they would have been remiss not to at least try exploiting that weakness. It made a lot of sense, Persephone couldn't deny it.

But violence and fear were no longer an option, nor did she want them to be even considered as part of the tool set, but there were still a great many angry people in their employ who would demand their lives back for lack of a better term, and the spring goddess turned realm queen knew better than anyone that the only way forward was to find a common road to walk. Together. 

And Persephone realized with a sinking feeling that it was her responsibility more than anyone else's, as wife of Hades and thus, the bridge between her husband and his embittered workers, to show them the way.

It was with these thoughts that Persephone mused about what she might say to reach them, with the two women still quietly conversing on both sides of her, when a particularly vicious insult on her husband hit her ears and all plans of a careful negotiation flew out the window as Persephone flung herself upright from her hiding place, guns blazing.

"You lot really think he doesn't care about ya?" 

Persephone raised up her voice as well, the booming tone filling the whole space in an instant as all eyes in the speakeasy immediately landed on her. 

She thought she heard Hecate draw in a gulping breath behind the bar, but it could just as well have been the other woman still hiding there, it made little difference. She started this, so now she better finish it. 

"He wears your _ souls _ on his _ skin_," she emphasized each word separately, almost surprised at her own conviction. She hated that damn wall, hated its imprint on his flesh even more so, but Hades insisted it was an important reminder, and Persephone would be damned if she didn't let the subjects of the wretched thing know what it was a reminder _ of_. "Carries you around with him like a million tiny shackles that he didn’t even want in the first place." 

The words came easier than she had anticipated, and soon enough the atmosphere in the room was charged with a different kind of passion as the lady of the underground stood up for her husband in a way that she hasn't done since the very early years of their marriage, back when she had still cared about justifying herself and her choices in the eyes of others. 

"But now that he’s got ya, he doesn’t take it lightly. My husband can be a right stupid idiot sometimes and a real asshole too when he wants to be, but he is never not a _ king_. His responsibility for you all is absolute, and you'd do best to remember it."

Silence reigned over the packed bar, and for the first time since she started talking, Persephone allowed herself to take in how many of them there really were. Her little ramshackle speakeasy filled to its very capacity with exhausted bodies slumped on chairs and tables and benches, with a drink of their choice in front of them each. Bodies that still had the will to fight. Fight against _ her _ husband, and by extension, against Persephone herself.

The reality of it was enough to knock the wind out of her for a second. But one second was all it took for a brave woman to stand and ask a question that Persephone suspected was on all of their minds.

"That's all well and good but what about our demands?"

Persephone sighed inwardly, but turned her piercing gaze on the woman in the crowd, never wavering as she gave her answer.

"I may have forgotten about it for a while myself, but my husband is a good man, and a just ruler," she told the workers, raising a hand to silence any upcoming protests in a powerful move that clearly said _ let me finish first_. "If you strike out against him, you do so at your own peril."

Persephone took a moment to let that sink in before she went on to bring her message home.

"But if you really want things round here to change for good, and you're willing to work on it with us instead of just cuttin' corners like some pitiful cowards, then I suggest you go through the proper channels." 

She glanced around the room significantly, letting her title and her bloodline really be felt in the way she held herself and the gaze of every person she was talking to.

Letting them really see that it was their queen talking to them once more. 

"Discuss your demands amongst yourselves, write up a petition. And I swear it on Styx, we will listen." 

* * *

Persephone stepped into their shared bedroom an hour later with little to no fanfare, a bone-deep exhaustion in her.

She’d stayed at the speakeasy only as long as it took for the workers’ amazement at her spontaneous stand of support to turn into an even more unexpected show of celebration for Persephone’s triumphant return, and the goddess took the impending festivities as her only opportunity to quietly duck out the back door and slip away unnoticed while the drink began flowing in spades once again. 

Some part of her was mighty tempted to join them, but it didn’t seem right for some reason, knowing that her husband was at home, waiting for her, probably already tipped off about her little display. Hecate had disappeared awfully fast into the night, and Persephone had no doubts Hades would hear every single word she’d said in that bar before she even had a chance to get back to the mansion.

Persephone took a moment to gaze at her husband from the doorway, Hades none the wiser. He was still up, of course, but already settled in bed with a sheet of paper strewn across his lap; the man looked to all the world like someone deep in work, but Persephone knew better. His reading glasses were on top of his head instead of over his eyes and she knew his mind was about a million miles away.

"Hi," Persephone greeted, finally stepping inside as she decided to let her presence be known.

The moment Hades saw her, he was up and in front of her in a flash, his hand reaching for hers almost automatically as he sighed in relief. "_Lover_."

It was utterly ridiculous. It was just a word, and one she's heard from him often enough, but there was something in his tone that made her eyes sting. Persephone had to look away from his intense gaze and she fixed her eyes on the full-length mirror instead that graced the outside of the dressing wardrobe and she studied their reflection as they stood there together, her hand still in his.

Hades in his nightclothes and Persephone in her full dress regalia, a great big contrast unto itself. Life and death personified, though at the moment they looked more like a sad tableau of old age and exhaustion than anything remotely powerful, despite being the gods they were.

Persephone and Hades. Hades and Persephone.

Her Mama used to call them a great big joke back in the beginning, the two of them together, but in recent years Persephone has wondered if it wasn’t just the cruelty of the fates instead, twining her thread so irrevocably with the only god in existence that she could never give her whole self to. Would he even want that, want all of her? He never asked outright, not in so many words, and she didn’t offer. 

Theirs wasn’t that kinda marriage anyway, couldn’t be helped. But she did wonder sometimes, _what_ _if_. 

"I take it you heard?" She decided to break the silence of the moment, though Persephone's gaze still remained on their mirror images 'cause she didn't dare look at his face directly.

"I did." He frowned. She did too. "And?"

"Lover, what were you thinking?"

"I...wasn't?" She answered truthfully, finally looking at him in the eyes. Great big stormy depths, even in that resounding blackness. Sometimes Persephone forgot that there was a whole 'nother world in there. "Not really. Not beyond that one moment of anger, I'm afraid."

"You could've put yourself in real danger with that little speech of yours. It ain't worth it."

"I was with Hecate, I would have been fine. And it is. Worth it. You didn't hear the way they spoke about ya."

"It's never worth it if there's a chance that your safety is compromised," Hades clasped her hand tighter in both of his before letting go suddenly, and taking a step back from her, almost as if he was afraid he'd crush her fingers in his hold otherwise. All the while his dark eyes swirled and simmered with all those emotions he usually kept so carefully under lock and key. Usually. "Not to me."

Persephone closed the small distance between them and took his hand back with a fondness that came back easier and easier as the days went on. Her palm fit seamlessly between his. The lego pieces of their lives, so to speak. Persephone was ready to be whole again.

"Well, I guess we're just gonna have to hear 'em out proper then, like I promised."

_ "We?" _

"Yes, we. You and me," she nodded. He looked so damn hopeful and finally this was something she knew she could give. "Together."

Hades smiled, a rare genuine smile, and the sight in itself was so sweet that she didn't give him the chance to say anything more before she leaned in to kiss him good and deep, making them both feel it down to their very souls. 

It was a thorough kiss and Persephone didn't let Hades pull away, instead she started kissin' on his face, his big chin, his nose, over his brow as she smoothed it down with careful fingers. She kissed him anywhere she could reach, and Hades didn't seem to mind, his hands tangled in her wiry hair as he held her to him, closing his eyes in obvious enjoyment. He soon became more adventurous though and kissed her exposed neck when Persephone least expected it, making her shudder.

Persephone groaned deep in her throat, something deep in her unhinging with an almost audible click like an old trapdoor swinging wide open after ages of no use, and all the light came spilling in at once with an almost blinding intensity. She wasted no time pulling her husband down on their bed with her, the two gods falling on top of the covers in a tangled mess of limbs and sighs.

"This alright?" Hades asked in a moment of stillness that she was grateful for, his fingers drawing small circles on the pattern of her dress, dark eyes clearly asking about the piece of fabric separating his hands from her bare skin, but his tone suggested the question could apply to so much more than that.

"More than," Persephone sighed and grabbed his wandering hand, brought it to her back and motioned for him to open her dress. 

His vest and suit followed as they helped each other discard all the layers separating them with slightly shaking fingers, the significance of the moment heightening each and every sensation as they revealed themselves to one another again, in more ways than just physical.

The two gods came together with a quiet sort of desperation, fueled by the long absence and their renewed want for each other. Persephone clung to Hades like a newborn babe to its mother, her face scrunched up in a mixture of pain and pleasure and safely hid in the crook of his neck, but her tears fell on his skin all the same. There was no way Hades wouldn't realize she was crying, even as it got harder and harder to tell apart where she ended and he began.

Persephone sniffled into his shoulder quietly while Hades stroked her back with gentle motions as he rocked their bodies together and apart to a rhythm that should have been long forgotten, but seemed to come alive on its own with each movement they made. He didn't mention the tears, bless him, and Persephone only clutched his neck more tightly, breathing in his scent like she used to do whenever they did this in the beginning.

She thought this was probably the kindest they'd been to each other without having to try, but Persephone still found herself wanting more. More of him, more of this. Just _more_.

“Stop bein’ so careful with me,” she whispered with a sudden twist of her body that landed her right on top of her husband. Hades gave a grunt, but he didn't complain, just adjusted their positions so she could splay herself comfortably on his form, her hands braced on his chest. “Ya don’t need to do that. I don’t love ya 'cause you’re careful.”

“Then -”

“I _ love _ you, Hades” she made sure to say those exact words with as much conviction as there was in the world, “because you’re mine. You’re the only thing in the world that ever was.”

Persephone drew back, but only for a second, to look into his dark eyes, for as long as there was still any trace of doubt in them. The hard muscles under her hands quivered, and she squeezed back before leaning down to plant a kiss on him. Their lips parted with a smack, but Hades chased her mouth for a couple more sweet kisses and Persephone smiled and gave in easily.

A sensitive man, her man, always had been. She'd almost forgotten how much he needed her reassurance because he'd stopped asking for it a long time ago. Maybe now she could give it to him as a gift, for free. Ain't like she didn't get it back a hundred-fold anyway. It was only fair.

“Yours," Hades repeated back to her, almost as if reading her thoughts. "Until the end of time.”

_ The end of time. _

Oh, her husband. Her man. Persephone smiled into his next kiss and pressed herself even closer on him as she started to move again in a gentle rhythm. Suddenly, she was in no great rush - eternity never sounded so sweet.

Some hours later, but it could've been months or years for all she cared at the moment, Persephone closed her eyes with a contented sigh, sated and spent, and her heart all but bursting at the seams at this brand new chance at life she'd just been given. 

Her husband's own heartbeat was steady under her ear, and Persephone splayed her palm over his ribcage protectively, silently promising to take better care of what lay beneath from that moment on. And for a little while, everything seemed to be alright.

There was only just one problem.

Lying there in _ their _ bed together, finally, both gods bare in every sense of the word with Hades’ hand in her hair and her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he slept soundly beneath her; however nice it was - and it _ was _ nice, unbelievably so - still did not drown out an unwanted, but very persistent sensation that Persephone has unknowingly been trying to push down for a few hours now. 

Such efforts had obviously been in vain because the feeling surfaced again now anyway. 

She suspected it wouldn’t go away easily, no matter how hard she tried, and she might not even be tryin’ that hard, because the truth was that in spite of her blissful exhaustion, in spite of her momentary happiness, in spite of herself even...Persephone was craving a drink.


End file.
